


Call my name

by Iconoclast



Category: Death Note & Related Fandoms, Death Note (Anime & Manga)
Genre: Alive Mello | Mihael Keehl, Alternate Ending, Blood and Injury, Caretaking, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Feelings, Forgiveness, Getting to Know Each Other, Grief/Mourning, Hurt/Comfort, Injury Recovery, M/M, Minor L/Yagami Light, Past Relationship(s), Recovery, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-09
Updated: 2019-05-06
Packaged: 2019-11-14 07:44:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,336
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18048449
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Iconoclast/pseuds/Iconoclast
Summary: Yellowbox warehouse. Light has been exposed as Kira and has been heavily injured. He escapes, and hides himself in one of the containers nearby. Ryuk is taking out his death note, ready to write Light's name in it, finally fulfilling his promise.Light is desperately holding on his own life, he looks up, finding the gaze of his former lover L in front of him. But as he calms down, as he sharpens his eyesight, he realises it's not L. It is Mello.Ryuk giggles and puts the death note away.





	1. The end of the beginning

**Author's Note:**

> Personally, I'm not a huge fan of Light's end in the anime, I prefer the one in the manga, but I figured the first suits the beginning of my story better.

“Somebody kill them for me!” Light yelled hysterically, slipped in the puddle of blood as he tried to get up from the ground, looking for someone who could help him. But nobody was there for him, he was alone now. He had lost his allies, all of them. Light crawled on the ground, like a worm, like a miserable being, but then his eyes found a pair of black shiny boots, followed the tall figure until he met the cruel smile he had gotten used to over the past years, a last spark of hope lit up in him.

“Ryuk…” Light tried to drag his body towards the shinigami. He could, had to write their names, the names of all of them. Ryuk was his last hope. But Ryuk wasn't interested in helping him anymore. He just stood there, full moon eyes staring down at him, cruel smile stamped on his blue lips, showing tremendous pointy teeth.

“The only name I'll write in my notebook… is _yours_.” The shinigami chuckled evilly, his hand reaching for his own notebook.

“I don't want to die!” Light yelled again, desperate, tried to get up. It wasn't easy, he couldn't move one of his arms anymore, and his whole body was aching, it felt so heavy. He didn't even know where Matsuda's bullets got him, one of his legs was hurting, too.  

A loud scream filled the warehouse and caught the attention of the ones who were there, Ryuk included. It was Mikami, for an unknown reason he was screaming like a pig, a storm of blood ran from his chest. Light took advantage of the situation and could find the last bit of strength, or maybe he had just a rush of adrenaline, opened the door and left the warehouse. He inhaled a deep breath of freezing air, freedom, hope.

 

+++

 

The blonde was sitting in the small car, he didn't really know what exactly he was waiting for. The sun was slowly setting and shined gold, coppery, bronze. It was really cold that day, but of course, it was January. A lit up cigarette hang between his lips and smoke filled the car while he was loading his trusty Beretta gun, maybe for the last time. He was there to kill someone. It didn't really matter who. Someone had to soothe his thirst for blood. His icy eyes caught a figure stumbling along one of the small ways through the warehouses, leaving a trail of blood behind.

“Well well. Seems like today's my lucky day.” He chuckled grimly, got off the car and crushed the cigarette under the black leather boot. He walked after the figure, holding the steel weapon in his hand.

 

+++

 

Light ran out of the warehouse, stumbling over his own feet. They won't get him alive. They won't get him. He was Kira and goddammit, he would survive this bloody setup. They were fools, they didn't deserve any mercy for not believing in Kira’s justice. The world would recognise him as the new God.

His hands felt like burning, he felt cold and warm at the same time, tears running from his eyes. He had never felt so miserable, but he would get out of this mess. He had always made it, so far.

He ran, but it wasn't really running, it was more a stumbling and dragging his body along the way, crying as memories of his past rushed in front of his eyes. His right arm was hanging like a lifeless limb, blood ran from his aching shoulder. Light was holding the injured part of his body, as if it would help, as if his arm would fall at any moment if he didn’t.

Light forced himself to go further, crying, panting, following the figure of his younger self. He wasn't ready to die yet, and went on, finding another empty warehouse where he could hide from his hunters. He would wait until his wounds were healed and then, he would work to get his notebooks back.

Mikami. Traitor. Takada. Traitor. Misa. Traitor. Ryuk. Traitor. He couldn't rely on anyone. “Ryuk you bastard.” Light panted and let himself fall on the stairway leading to the upper floor. He couldn't walk anymore. He was too weak, his legs were trembling and weren’t supporting him anymore. It wasn't exactly that he wanted to fall, but his knees simply gave it and his body collapsed on the ground. His bleeding hands soiled the greyish white concrete stairs as he tried to turn his body and look at the shinigami who was floating in the air above him, yellow full moon eyes staring at him, mouth curled to an infernal grin, an evil laughter filling the silence. “You betrayed me.” Light spat at him, voice vicious like venom. The only one who had the power to help him, refused to do so.

“You'll die here, Light.” The shinigami opened his notebook and took out a pen made of bone, its ink was blackened blood.

“No…” Light's voice was just a feeble echo, he was out of breath, exhausted and tired. He licked his dry, chapped lips. Ryuk couldn't simply kill him. It couldn't just end like this.

“Well, it was good while it lasted.” Light wasn't sure if Ryuk was sorry to kill him, or if he was making fun of him, or maybe even both. “We killed some boredom, didn't we?” Light shook his head and tried to use his good arm to grab the notebook from the shinigami's hands, but he was too far from him and Light was too weak.

“It's time, Light.”

“No! No!” He yelled, everything blurred in front of him, snot was running from his nose. He was lying there, trying to resign to his fate, but he couldn't. He didn't want to let go everything, he had worked so hard, for seven goddamn long years. He was vehemently trying to hold on anything he could, but Ryuk seemed to be quite determined to write Light’s name in his notebook.

 _‘All I've worked for… it can't be futile. The world needs me. They don't understand.’_ Light closed his eyes, he sobbed loud, feeling helpless, so helpless against fate, helpless against Ryuk; no matter what, despite how far he had come, how hard he had tried, worked, sacrificed… it couldn't just end here. Panic and pain caused spasms through his body, he was losing sensitivity, it was cold, so cold.

Ryuk put the pen on the notebook, started writing the first kanji of Light's name, followed by the second, but then, before he could finish the third, something caught his attention, and he followed the noise coming from the entrance.

 

Someone was standing there and watching them, or better, was watching Light. Someone who didn’t seem to have good intentions. Someone who wasn't there just by coincidence.

The figure walked slowly towards him, loud steps hit the floor, the rattling sound of chains echoed in the huge, empty warehouse. The shinigami tilted his head sideways and observed carefully the scene in front of him, waited until the shady figure stepped in front of Light.

Light looked up, blinked incredulously at the sight in front of him, couldn't believe his eyes as he saw his old enemy and lover Ryuzaki standing there.

“What are you doing here…” Light muttered but his voice broke soon. Ryuk giggled beneath him, already amused about what was going to happen now.

Light sharpened his eyes, and the raven-haired, weird man with grey eyes vanished, leaving place to a young man with golden hair and eyes like ice, a huge scar was covering half of his face. He was dressed in black leather clothes and was pointing a gun to him. Light was hallucinating. Why would a blonde guy dressed like a Ryuk stand in front of him now? It was bloody ridiculous. Wasn't he dead already?

“Nice to meet you, _Kira_.”

This voice, Light remembered this velvety voice with a slight exotic accent, the way he pronounced the word _Kira_. He had heard it before. He couldn't think clearly now, but he was sure he had heard this voice before.

“W-who are you?” Light sobbed and looked at the gun pointing to him, a cross pending from the shaft. Ryuk snickered amused next to him, watched the scene attentively.

“Mello.” The blonde said without adding further explanations. There was a long silence, Light stared in his icy, frostbitten eyes, his own sight soon blurred by the tears. Wasn't Mello dead? He was hallucinating so bad, when will this finally end? He didn't want to die, he wasn't ready for it, but this near-death experience was even worse than he’d expected. He had heard about people telling they saw their life passing in front of them. Or dead people talking to them, but this, _this_ was definitely too much.

“W-what do you want?” Words hardly came out his trembling lips, his throat was sore from crying, his tongue swollen.

“You killed Matt.” The blonde stated dryly, his voice so very spine-chilling.

Light didn't know who this Matt was, nor did he care. “Y-you k-killed m-my fah-ther…” was all he could think about. “W-we are even...”

“Well, we are not even because you killed L and Wammy too.” Mello stepped closer, gun still pointed to Light's head, finger slightly pushing the trigger. Kira would bloody pay for having killed his best friend, his mentor, and the man who had given him a home.

Light cleaned his eyes, tried to take a better look at Mello. He didn't want to die. He tried vehemently to hold to life as long as he could. “P-please d-don’t ki-kill me.” Light sobbed, a last desperate try, even if he wasn't very hopeful it would help, that the mobster would spare him from his fate. “P-please…” He looked into the blonde's cold eyes, eyes that seemed to have turned sorrowful. Was there pity in them?

 

Mello pointed the gun between Light’s eyes. It would be a merciful and quick death. Not that Kira deserved it, but Mello was tired. He had thought so many times what he would do to him once he'd found him, but somehow this desire was slowly vanishing. He just wanted to put an end to all this.

 _Pathetic_. Light was there, in a pathetic state in front of him, he, Lord Kira, crying like an ordinary human, he, Lord Kira, who had pissed his own pants, he, Lord Kira, grovelling at his feet and begging for mercy. Mello looked in his amber eyes, eyes that were supposed to shine bright like the purest gold, but they were dull, red and swollen, desperately trying to find mercy. Mello's grip softened around the gun, Light was just a human after all, left to die alone like a dog. And Mello was so tired of all this death and misery, like a soldier who has grown tired of war. God seemed to have other plans for them. “I forgive you.” Mello sighed, shocked about his own words, and put the gun in the leather holster on his hips.

Light burst into tears of relief and incredulous about what had just happened. “I n-need help.” Mello wanted to leave him there, but had pity for him, even if Kira was the biggest mass murderer in human history. A good Christian would help his enemy if he was in need, and Mello tried to be a good Christian. He wouldn't turn away from faith once more. It was God proving him, them, giving them both a way to make up for their wrong actions. To be repentant. He crossed himself, leading the rosary cross to his lips, pressing a soft kiss on it.

Mello sighed and licked his dry lips. “Okay.” What could Light do to him anyway? He looked at his bleeding hands, they were destroyed, it was a wonder if he could use them ever again.

Ryuk snickered in the background and put notebook and pen away, he hadn't written Light's full name yet, and he was curious to see what would happen now. He could write Light's name anytime, and he didn't want to leave the mortal world yet. It was way too fun here, and he'd like to see how Light was going to deal with the boy who had destroyed his family.

“O-okay?” Mello nodded and helped Light to get up from the pool of blood and piss. He put Light's good arm around his shoulders and wrapped an arm carefully around Light’s waist. The Japanese was taller than him, but fortunately Mello was wearing platform boots, so there wasn’t much height difference.  

“Can you walk like this?” Mello supported him as much as he could, while Light tried to walk, making very small steps. “My car isn't far, c’mon.”

 

+++

 

“Get in.” Mello opened the back door and Light did as he said. Mello helped him to bend and take place on the back seats. The blonde sat next to him and took one of the random t-shirts he had thrown into the car.

“What are you doing?” Light wondered as Mello carefully took off his suit jacket to check his wounds. He made a grimace as he saw his bleeding shoulder, and pushed the t-shirt on the injury.

“Can you hold it here?” Light nodded and tried to add pressure as Mello had shown him. “Lay down. At least as long as we've left this bloody place.” So Mello's intention wasn't to bring him to the police or hospital? Light didn't care much at that moment and did as Mello told him. Of course Light needed to be aided as soon as possible, but they had to get away from there first.

The tall man had not much space on the small Toyota, but it was the first car Mello had found to rent in Tokyo after Matt's Camaro got destroyed.

 _Smol dick, smol car_ , Matt had said once they had arrived in Japan. Mello smiled softly and got in the Toyota. Matt had always a weird sense of humour and it was one of the things Mello loved about him.

 _‘Matt…’_ Mello thought with regret about his dead friend and... lover? Matt and Mello had never stated they were a couple, it just happened gradually. They had been friends for many years, and loved each other as they were brothers. Mello had left Wammy's one day, but found himself in the need for Matt's help and contacted him a few years ago. It was the first and only time he had put his pride aside and asked for help. And Matt had answered. He had joined Mello in Los Angeles. They had worked together and slept together, always going after Kira.  

Time to mourning was over. They had prepared themselves to the eventuality one, or both of them, would die, but it was hard anyway. Losing another person he cared for was hard. They never said _I love you_ to each other. Mello didn't know if Matt had felt the same, but he definitely loved him. Mello sighed, he regretted not having told Matt what he felt for him. But it was too late now. As it was too late saying to his parents he was sorry. Mello hadn't been a good boy, he was a troublemaker and his parents hadn't it easy with him. They had scolded him, he had answered he hated them. They had left and never come back. Deadly car accident. Mello regretted not telling them he was sorry.

It was too late anyway. They were gone and Matt was gone too. He had two days to mourn his death, crying wouldn't bring him back. He looked in the rear-view mirror, checking if Light was still there. Light didn’t really seem to have realised that he was in danger, he seemed way too quiet, but then he remembered he had been through this as well, and he hadn’t really felt the pain at first either.

Mello had thought many times what he would do to Light, to Kira, but now… seeing him like this... he was just a human, after all. He was alone, like him. Maybe God was giving them both another chance. God was merciful and loved all his children. He could forgive a mobster and a mass murderer.

Mello parked the utility car in front of a pharmacy and turned to Light. He was trembling, and looked quite in distress, his face pale. He needed painkillers and aid as soon as possible. “I'll be back soon.” Mello tried to clean the blood from his clothes, luckily it wasn't visible on the black leather garments. He briefly hesitated before taking off his trusted gun and the holster, but there was no way Light could even hold a pen with his destroyed hands.

“W-where are w-we…” Light stuttered. “Please d-don't bring me to the p-police…”

“I need to buy some stuff to take care of your wounds.”

Light just nodded, he didn't really care if it was a lie or not. Why hadn't Ryuk written his name already? Was it so fun watching him suffer?

 

+++

 

Mello came back not much time later, opened the back door. “I've got you painkillers.” He shifted Light’s body up and sat next to him, gave him a pill and some water.

Light felt like in heaven, he was thirsty and his throat was sore, his whole body was hurting and burning, and yet, he felt cold.

“Hey don't be too greedy.” Mello took the water away from him, then he reached for the disinfectant and bandages in the paper bag. “I'll do a proper treatment later. It's just to avoid infections.” Light nodded and swallowed, wondering if the mobster actually knew how to treat a wound.

The blonde got rid of his leather gloves, then poured disinfectant on his hands to clean them, causing unneeded infections was the last thing they needed now. The painkiller was slowly doing its work, and Light felt slight relief. Mello ripped Light’s shirt and looked at the wound on his shoulder, probably the bullet was still sticking in there. _‘Fuck.’_ He would take care of it later. Mello put a clean cloth on the wound and applied pression, waiting a few more minutes until the bleeding diminished a little. Then he poured a generous amount of hydrogen peroxide on the bleeding spot and covered it with a few layers of sterilized gauze. He had to stop that damn bleeding, so he used his teeth to rip a piece of fabric and striped it around the wound on his shoulder, adding as much pressure as he could. Light panted a little, and looked at Mello, who soon returned his look.

“How's it going?”

Light nodded and swallowed in response. “I hope you know what you're doing, kid.”

Mello snorted and Light earned a frown. “Are you complaining?” The blonde cleaned the wounds on Light's hands as gently as he could, and bandaged them up carefully. He had to take proper care of it later, they had to go now, before anyone could see them.

“My… leg…”

Mello's fingers ran along Light’s thigh until he found another bleeding spot. It didn't seem as bad and cleaned it quickly, then wrapped Ligh'ts silk tie around it to stop the bleeding.

 

As Mello was done, he told Light to not lay down, but helped him to find a comfortable sitting position. Mello took off his parka and put it gently around Light’s trembling body. He was still worried about Light’s state, his lips were blue and his face was so pale. Mello hoped he hadn’t lost too much blood already. Mello hesitated briefly, but put his rosary around Light’s neck, just to be sure, and because Light was more in the need of God’s help.

“We'll be home soon. I don't live far from here.” Light nodded, Mello waited to be sure Light was in a stable position, and sat again on the driver's seat. “Just stay with me, okay?” He rummaged in the glove compartment and took out a pack of cigarettes, lit one up and smoked out of the window, resting his head on the steering wheel, crying silently. He cried of sadness, and of exhaustion, and of relief. He was well and alive, and had the chance to atone for his sins, and to give Light the same chance he had. They were blessed, if one of them had a guardian angel, he had been so damn lucky today.

Light noticed the smell of cigarette smoke, but was too exhausted to complain. He was alive, he was bloody alive. Whoever was watching him up there must be really merciful. Maybe it was L who sent one of his heirs saving him. Light didn't know. He didn't care. He was damn alive. Ryuk sat on the hood of Mello's car, looked at the two walking disasters in there and laughed.


	2. Fragile

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As Mello has predicted, Light's state is quite critic. The young mobster is trying anything within his power to save Kira.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter contains very graphic depicting of injuries and blood. I wouldn't label it as gore, but if it bothers You, please skip this.
> 
> I am not a medic, and so isn't Mello. I tried to make it as realistic as possible, it's just a normal person trying to aid someone, without any professional knowledge. So of course what Mello's doing might not be the "right" way, but the way it seems more logical to him.

 

 

While driving, Mello tried to keep Light's mind awake by talking to him about random things. He feared Light’s passing out could have fatal consequences, and Mello hadn't the right equipment to save his life, he didn’t even know how to do a damn transfusion. Light had lost a huge amount of blood already, Mello hoped any help wasn't too late for him. The blonde sighed while trying to drive like a normal person, afraid to catch attention if he tore the small Toyota down the streets of Tokyo.

“Eating with chopsticks is really weird, huh.” Mello felt truly stupid chattering about mundane topics like food or weather, but at least it worked, as long as Light reacted and replied. He needed only ten minutes, ten goddamn minutes, just until they arrived at the flat he and Matt had rented for their stay in Japan.

 

The car finally stopped and the engine was killed. Mello jumped out of the Toyota and helped Light to get up, and put the parka on his shoulders so he wouldn't freeze. Mello was glad it was darkening already, because they had to walk up to the split-level, the stairs were on the outside of the building, and they didn't need too much unwanted attention. Mello was already an eye-catcher there with his blonde hair and his blue eyes. He just hoped Light could make it up the stairs. Bloody fuck, the injury on Light's thigh was a pain in the ass but maybe the painkillers did enough work to soothe his hurt a little, so he could at least make it up the stairs.

“We have to go up there.” Mello pointed to the door and Light sighed. “You can make it, c'mon.” The blonde wrapped his arm around Light’s waist, holding him firmly, and they walked slowly, step by step, Mello supporting him attentively. “One step at the time,” Mello tried to encourage Light, and the brunette tried his best to get up that damn stairway. “You're doing good.”

Light had some trouble walking up the first couple of stairs, but soon they found a way to make it easier for him, even if it took them a few minutes longer to reach the level.

Mello fetched the keys dangling from his belt, and selected the right one. Light was short on breath, the blonde understood he was reaching the limit of endurance. Not now goddammit, Mello opened the door and walked them in, kicked it shut and dragged Light to the bathroom.

The flat wasn't very big, kitchen and living room were one room, and there were two bedrooms and a bathroom. It was built and appointed in European style, very simple but comfortable. Mello liked it here, and Matt had liked it too.

 

Mello cursed as he realised that it wouldn't be easy to put Light in the tub, but he had to, because Light stank and was fucking dirty. Mello had to wash off that damn blood and grime, and get rid of the stench of piss or he would vomit. He helped Light to sit on the edge of the tub, threw his legs in, and then made him carefully lie down.

“What are you doing?” Light licked his dry lips, he was confused, was he lying in a cold tub or was he hallucinating?

“Getting you clean.” Mello plucked out a pocket knife from his pocket and cut Light's clothes, ignoring the protests that his designer shirt cost more than a car. “Oh, just shut the fuck up.” Mello removed Light's dirty clothes, the stench of piss and fear really hit him, and threw them somewhere on the floor far from them. Of course, he wasn't going to wash them, but would buy a new set of clothes for Light at a later moment. It wasn't his first concern now.

“I don't need a babysitter…” Light's breath was still short, but his legendary arrogance seemed to haven't left him yet. Well, he was Lord Kira after all, Mello shouldn't wonder. “You just have to treat my wounds and let me go.”

Mello rolled his eyes and turned the shower on warm, directing the shower head where Light wasn't injured, his abdomen and privates, the drain was left open so the filth just flushed down. The blonde took a quick look at his body, to check if Light had other wounds, but luckily he just had some minor bruises and scratches.

“Trust me, you need serious aid.” Of course Light didn't feel it as bad as it really was, adrenaline was still rushing through his body, and so the last traces of painkiller. But both their effect would fade, and Light would realise soon enough, because the wound on Light's shoulder was really troubling Mello. “I'll be back.”

 “Hey,” Light yelled after him. “Don't leave me here, kid!”

Mello ignored him and put a pot full of water on the stove, then he packed out the first aid kit and boiled a pair of rounded tweezers to sterilise them. While he was waiting, he drowned two glasses of whisky, straight, no ice. Mello felt the alcohol burning his throat, tied his hair up and washed his hands meticulously. He felt the need to smoke a cigarette, there was no time, so he opened the fridge and snapped off a few squares from a chocolate bar.

Mello went back to the bathroom, Light was lying in the tub, head resting on the edge, eyes closed. Mello removed the rosary from Light's neck and put it around his own, he took a washcloth, soaked it and then cleaned Light’s face and the parts of his body the water hadn't reached yet with care. He threw a glance at Light, who was there, apparently relaxed and with his eyes closed as if he was pampered and the spa. _Arrogant prick_ , Mello thought and at this moment he felt the strong power Kira was emanating, even if he was there, naked and wounded.

Mello turned off the water, it had washed away blood and dirt, and now he could finally take proper care of him. The blonde carefully removed the bandage from Light's shoulder and his leg, turned on again the water and used the washcloth to clean the dried blood from it. The injury on his shoulder was still bleeding a little, Mello pushed his finger in the wound, and he had been right, the bullet was in there, and he didn't like the way it was sticking in his flesh.

Light screamed from pain, he wanted to push away Mello's hand but his own were out of order, he couldn't even move the right arm. He felt really impotent and helpless, completely at the mercy of the young mobster. What if he had made a mistake to trust him? And if Mello's intent was to torture him?

“I've to dig out the bloody bullet.” Mello turned off the water again, reached for a clean towel and threw it on Light's naked body. He had noticed that the brunette was feeling really uncomfortable, and Mello's intent wasn't to humiliate him. “Still cold?” Mello was rubbing him dry, still careful to not touch the open injuries.

“It's fine.” Light shook his head, the hot water had indeed warmed him up, at least that.

“C'mon.” Mello grabbed Light under the armpits and made him sit on the bathtub edge, took his feet and threw them over the edge. Mello put another bath towel on the floor and helped Light to sit down, resting his back against the tiled wall, and covered his privates again. Before he dedicated his full attention to the wound on his shoulder, Mello checked briefly the one on Light's thigh. Luckily, it was superficial, it would leave an ugly scar because the bullet had torn apart skin and flesh, but that wasn't a real problem now. He just needed to bandage it up, maybe to close it with some steri strips, or stitches, he would focus on it later.

Mello prepared everything he needed, clean clothes, a basin with warm water, sterile gauze, different disinfectants, the sterilised tweezers, thread and needle, and a single-use scalpel, just in case. He put on disposable gloves and knelt next to Light, who was panting nervously.

Light watching the blonde who was busy getting stuff ready, his hair tied up to a knot, giving a full view to the scar on his face, which extended down to his neck and disappeared in the leather vest.

“I try the best to be careful,” Mello took off his belt and held it in front of Light's face. “But it'll hurt.”

 “Are you supposed to spank me or to choke me?” Light snapped and Mello sighed.

“You're supposed to bite on this to not chew on your own tongue, you ungrateful bastard.” Mello threw him a glare, one that didn't admit any discussion.

Light licked his lips and nodded, Mello shoved the leather in his mouth and Light clenched it between his teeth. He tried to remain calm, but as soon as Mello plucked the tweezers in his shoulder, he squirmed, used his good leg to kick Mello from him, making the blonde fall on his ass, then he kicked another time and hit Mello right in the face.

Mello didn't expect Light’s violent reaction and fell back, bumping his head hard against the edge of the tub. He collapsed on the floor, and couldn't move from shock and pain.

“Fuck! I'm sorry!” Light spat the leather, he was surprised about his own reaction, he still was able to find the energy to defend himself. That meant he wasn't in such a bad state, after all. The brunette swallowed, he hadn't killed him, had he? “Mello?” The mobster didn't move for a few moments, then made a few attempts to sit up, very slowly and holding his head between his hands, blood running from his nose. “Hey kid, you alright?”

“You could be at least cooperative. You asshole.” Mello hissed, pinched the bridge of his nose, still feeling dizzy. Fuck, they didn't need that now, one wounded among them was enough already. Mello sat there and waited a few minutes until the pain was slowly fading and he was sure it was nothing serious.

“Do you actually know how to treat gunshot wounds, kid?”

Mello shifted his body in front of Light, the dizziness was fading, and sat on his heels. Light looked in Mello's icy eyes, then followed the hand that was unzipping the tight leather vest. What the hell was he doing, why was he taking off his clothes? Mello threw the leather garment on the floor, Light's eyes followed the intricate map of scars on his chest. He studied the knife wounds, healed bullet holes, but then his eyes found the huge scar that had deformed the skin of the left half of his upper body. The scar on Mello's face was nothing compared to this one, where fire had literally melted his flesh, tongues of flames had devoured the skin, licking away some of his tattoos and even his left nipple. It was horrendous, the skin so shiny and red. Light swallowed and felt guilty, how old was the guy, eighteen, twenty? If he made it out alive of this, he had to ask Mello for his story, that was for sure.

“I know what pain means.” The blonde reached for some toilet paper and put it under his bleeding nose. “I've been in the mafia, and trust me, it was not just party and blackmailing.” He blinked, and avoided Light’s eyes. The brunette could feel his discomfort, so young and beautiful, and half of his body destroyed already. What had he been through, Light wondered. What had they all been through. Where was the world he wanted to live in, made of kind and good people. There wasn't any.

Mello slowly got up from his crouching position and rummaged in the medicine cabinet, he wasn't sure but maybe there still was one or two left, at least he hoped.

“I can give you morphine. For the pain.”

 “No.” Light shook his head. “You won't mess with my head.”

“Fine then.” Mello put the small ampoule and the sealed syringe on the sink and left the bathroom.

He came back a few moments later, holding a bottle and a glass filled with a caramel coloured liquid. “Drink,” but Light shook his head. “Trust me, you'll need it.” Mello himself gulped a few sips from the bottle.

Light sighed and nodded, Mello held the rim of the glass to his lips and raised it carefully, so Light could drink the whisky. He realised now, that once Light was aided, he had to act as his caretaker, Light couldn't do a bloody thing with his broken hands, and he couldn't just go back to his old life.

Fuck. Matt used to take care of him when he was wounded, and Mello had been truly insufferable for weeks, his body scarred, his pride wounded. But Matt had always had a calm attitude and a weak spot for Mello, in which sense he didn't know by now. Matt never seemed emotionally attached to him, at least not in that way. Sure, they had sometimes sex, but as soon as they were done, Matt disappeared from his side to sit in front of the computer screens, smoking cigarette after cigarette.

Mello sighed, if Light was only half as whimsical as himself, and if Mello was only as half as patient as Matt used to be... it was nearly impossible even then. But it seemed like God had handed him this task, and Mello had to prove to be worthy. He could do it, he had to.

The mobster put the empty glass and the bottle on the sink, took another pair of disposable gloves and knelt again in front of Light, this time above his good leg, so he wouldn't just kick him off. He took the towel and put it once more on Light's lap, then reached for the tweezers and poured disinfectant over it to clean the item.

Light swallowed and licked his dry, chapped lips. He looked at Mello and gave a slight nod. Before the blonde could put the leather belt in Light's mouth, Light thought it could be useful and distracting if he could listen to a story.

“How did you survive?”

“You mean Takada?” Light nodded and opened his mouth so Mello could place the belt in it. “Well,” the blonde got closer to Light's shoulder and took a careful look. “She misspelled my name. _Kheel_ instead of Keehl.” Light rolled his eyes, was she really so stupid? But he shouldn't wonder, Kiyomi had always had interest in his power and his dick, she hadn't paid really attention when Light had told her Mello's name. “I got it she wanted to do that, I knew it.” His eyes finally found the bullet, his eyesight was excellent, he was a sniper after all. “I stopped the lorry in the abandoned church,” Mello took the tweezers and positioned them carefully. “I stayed there and faked to be dead, she took my phone and called you.” He inserted the steel tweezers and tried to get the bullet. He hoped there was no need for the scalpel. “After she was done, I got off and wanted to stop her but…” The tweezers closed around the bullet and he moved it, Light whimpered and closed his eyes. “That bitch attacked me. At first, I didn't want to hit her but she scratched my face and… then she seemed like possessed, she let me go and set everything on fire. I could escape just by miracle.” Mello tore the bullet from Light's wound, some blood spilled from it, he took a clean cloth and put it on the hole, adding pressure. Light growled, his face was sweaty and his breath frantic. “Done.”

Light spat the leather belt and growled of relief. Mello rubbed gently his bad arm, to calm him, to tell him it would be alright. Amber eyes searched for icy blue ones, never would he have thought such cold irises could give him so much relief.

Mello waited a few minutes and removed carefully the cloth from Light's shoulder. The bleeding wasn't as bad as he feared, but still, Light had lost enough blood that day. The blonde reached for the disinfectant, poured again a good amount of hydrogen peroxide on the spot, both heard the frizzy sound of the substance working.

“Is it normal?” Light licked his chapped lips, he was exhausted, the adrenaline seemed to have slowly faded.

“Yea, it means it's cleaning.” Light just nodded as response and Mello used his teeth to rip the envelope of sterile gauze, putting the medic cloth carefully on the injured part. He repeated the procedure a few more times, and then finally bandaged him up. Mello sighed and hoped he had done his best, he was far from being a nurse after all.

 

Now came the part Mello feared the most: Light's hands. As he took care of him in the car, they looked quite…destroyed. He gave Light a few minutes, but he looked more and more frantic. It was better if Mello worked fast, at least he could bring Light to bed and make him rest. Both could rest. They needed it.

Mello took a deep breath and undid the bandage around Light's right hand, and as he looked closer to it, it was worse than he'd expected. _‘Fuck…’_ He held Light’s hand in his, using a clean cloth to wipe away the dried blood, Light's middle and ring finger were completely ruined, the nubs were not missing yet but just dangling there, held by a piece of flesh and tendon. Mello closed his eyes, and sighed deeply, fuck, he really had to do it, he had to amputate that part or there was the risk Light’s fingers would get gangrene. Goddammit he wasn't a bloody doctor, he had no clue what he could do to save his hands, he only hoped to do the right thing with as less damage as possible. The last phalanxes of two of his fingers were not as bad as two whole fingers, or even worse, his whole hand. Mello took a look on Light's wrist, it was still bleeding, everything was fucking bleeding, when was this going to end? He closed his eyes and tried to remain calm, but it wasn't easy, he was prone to messing up things when he was panicking. _‘Oh Gott.’_

Light was biting down on his lips and crying silently, eyes closed and head resting on his own shoulder. He must have been slowly realising all the pain rushing through his body, the painkiller wasn't that strong after all. Mello couldn't work on him in this state. No, he couldn't, he remembered the pain well, too well, he was going to lose his cool if Light reacted like before. The blonde felt his own head spinning, closed his eyes and crossed himself, prayed silently. If Light was awake while he tried to rip off two of his fingers, he couldn't do it. Mello had been trained to be a killing machine, but that didn't mean he was insensitive. He had changed so much after the explosion, he had found his faith in God.

 

“I think,” Mello swallowed and licked his lips. “You need that morphine now.” The alcohol wasn't enough anymore. Painkillers weren't enough anymore.

 “No way, I'm not a junkie!” Light shivered and shook his head, who knows what the goddamn mobster had in mind to do with him while he was on drugs. Torture him? Rape him? Light realised that this very same person was the kidnapper of his sister and the responsible for his father's death. Could he really trust him?

“C'mon, Kira, it's not heroin, you won't get addicted after one usage.” Light frowned. “Well _you_ don't look like you're the kind of guy who gets addicted after one use, ‘kay?”

“Don't even dare to drug me, you bastard.” Light hissed under his breath, but didn't really move, his eyes still closed, his face twitched and grimaced. He was too proud for it, wasn't he. To admit he needed drugs in this state. Mello had been through it as well, but sometimes the pain is just too much to be bore.

 _‘You know what, fuck me,’_ Mello thought and got slowly up, prepared the syringe, he took a glimpse at Light's body and guessed his weight to get the right dosage, then knelt again next to Light.

Trained eyes looked for blue veins under golden skin, Mello swallowed, he had one single change at this. Sure, he could give him the morphine intramuscularly but intravenous worked faster, they didn't have much time to waste. _‘C'mon…’_ Mello led the needle to Light's swollen vein, calmly pushed it in. Light seemed to haven't realised or most probably he didn't mind, because he made no attempt to rebel. Maybe it was his silent agreement to it, the one his pride forbade him to give. Just a few seconds, and the drug already had its effect on Light, and he collapsed in an induced sleep.

Mello released a deep breath he didn't know he was holding, he palmed his face, alright, now he could do everything with no rush and no fear Light would attack him again.

 

The blonde undid the bandage from the left hand, checked on Light's fingers. This one wasn't as bad as the other, he might need some stitches between his thumb and index and on his middle finger. It would be painful but the hand should heal without many problems, at least Mello hoped so. Both Light’s wrists were wounded and bleeding, but they didn't seem to have major damage, fortunately. It would be a long healing process, Mello sighed and hoped Light wouldn't lose the use of his hands.

The young mobster got up and gulped another few sips of whisky before doing the serious work. He got on his knees and put all the utensils ready he might need. Again, he wore a pair of clean latex gloves, used his teeth to rip the small wrapping of the disposable scalpel blade and made it fit on the small handle. He closed his eyes and sent a quick prayer to the Mother, then gathered his courage and put a clean towel on his lap. Mello reached for Light’s right hand and put it on his thighs, looking careful at the destroyed fingers. He was slightly trembling, afraid to do something wrong. He wished he could be as cool and calm as Matt in cases like this.

“C'mon, Mel.” He encouraged himself, and started to do the job. Carefully and with patience, he removed the now useless parts of his fingers using the sharp scalpel, scraped a little to remove possible fragments of bone sticking in his flesh. He wrapped some layers of gauze around them and held Light’s hand up, waited until the bleeding diminished, not sure if to cauterize the parts but once he removed the bandage he decided against it. Mello had done stitches before, it wasn't that big deal, he could do it. He disinfected the wound again, just to be sure, took needle and thread, tried to work as precise as possible to leave a neat scar once it was healed. He did the same on the other hand, the area to stitch was a bit bigger but it didn't bleed as much and it was easier to keep the skin together, and luckily there weren't any parts to remove.

Both Light’s wrists were damaged, Mello couldn't do other than clean the wounds and bandage him up, and let them heal on their own. He hoped no tendons or bones had been broken, but his medical knowledge wasn't that good to guess so much. If something would go wrong, he had to kidnap a doctor or a nurse.

After cleaning and putting on steri strips to keep together the huge injury on Light's left thigh, Mello checked again the whole body for wounds, but luckily there weren’t any, at least not serious ones. All Mello needed to do was to clean them and putting a plaster on. Finally, Mello checked carefully Light’s face and mouth, he had an ugly wound on his eyebrow, but he hadn't lost any teeth and his nose didn't seem broken. Good, Mello felt relieved. The blonde cleaned and closed the small wound using steri strips to avoid an unaesthetic scar.

Mello sighed of relief, he was done. He took a view on Light's face, he looked so... peaceful now. How could someone looking so pure be responsible for so many deaths…? Mello wondered what had made Light became what he was now. He couldn't understand, but he had to admit, the power of the death note was intoxicating. He knew it well.

Carefully, he brushed a strand of coppery hair out of Light's face and fixed it behind his ear. Who would have known Kira was so attractive, Mello sighed. Life was ironic, and he missed Matt's weird sarcasm to cheer him up, to tell him everything was going to be okay.

“Everything's gonna be okay…” Mello muttered under his breath, he didn't know if he said it to Light or to himself, or maybe to them both.

 

“Oh, I really hope so. I'm not ready to leave so soon.” The dark figure in the background had watched everything and found it incredibly funny and amusing to see Light at the mercy of someone, completely powerless. He really wanted to see how he would get out of this mess, but still, his first concern was how to soothe his lust for apples. There weren’t any, he might leave and get them somewhere else.

 

Mello grabbed Light under the armpits and dragged him to bed. He was quite heavy, but Mello had been trained to be strong, he lifted Light's boneless body onto his bed, then threw the legs on the mattress and covered him with care. He didn't bother to dress him, Light didn't need any clothes now, he just put some towels around his privates, in the case Light wetted himself while he was sleeping. Mello doubted that, he must be dehydrated but still, better safe than a wet bed. At least Light was clean and bandaged, the rest was in God's hands.

The blonde left his bedroom and rushed to the bathroom to clean up the mess in there, blood and mutilated flesh, pieces of gauze and clothes full of blood, and the smell, the smell was awful, revolting. It smelled of death and despair, of fear, of fate mocking them.

Mello picked up the blood stained tweezers, the scalpel and then, the almost empty syringe. There was still a tiny amount in there, it would feel so good, wouldn't it. It would feel so warm and soft, like a fluffy cloud surrounding him, locking him away from the world, he would not think about all this for a few hours… just a few hours… it was so damn exquisite, that feeling, that wooly, soft feeling. Mello swallowed, he felt his itchy fingers longing to push that into him... No. He put the cap on the needle and put the syringe on the sink, next to the morphine. Light might need it, and he won't start again, fuck, not now, not after Matt had threatened to leave him.

The bath had been cleaned, and Mello felt a little better, just a little but still, better than nothing. He poured another glass of whisky and drowned it in one sip, then he lit up a cigarette and smoked it greedily, he had longed for it for hours. Mello smoked in silence, and emptied the bottle, and still, it was not enough to numb him. He needed a bloody shower, and rest.

 

Mello stood under the shower for long time, he just stood there and let the water wash away his thoughts, his feelings, like a therapeutic ritual. He was tired, so goddamn tired, he hadn't any strength left, not even to cry. He turned off the water, dried himself and wore a comfortable tracksuit, his movements like mechanical, Mello didn't even realise what he was doing.

Mello placed a chair in front of the bed and sat next to Light. He took off the rosary, held the cross and kissed it, then put it on Light's bandaged hands.

“Gott, hast du mich verlassen…?” He whispered and folded his hands. He couldn't do more for Light now. All he could do was praying for him, because Light had lost a huge amount of blood and Mello wasn't sure he would survive.

The blonde put his hands on Light's, and Light lying there with bandaged wrists, resting peacefully… it reminded Mello of the Messiah.

Well, a messiah on morphine, Mello snorted.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> next chapter: Mello and Light finally interact with each other and have a human dialogue.


End file.
